The Jabulani swerves and spins and twists and turns,
You can’t control me,
You can’t own me,
But you can run with me or you can run after me;
I am Jabulani – rejoice!

Then the infernal monotonic sound pierce our ears,
Lepatata is its Tswana name,
The ring tone of the war is sounded,
I am Vuvuzela and I am the sound from hell;
Hear me! Hear me all you watchers and warmonger!

The whole battlefield is awash with a rainbow of colors,
Flags of the warring nations quiver in the air,
The conspirators breathe with delight.

Let’s party the organizers say,
Let’s just do it an advertiser say,
The war is here.

The green green grass is splendidly turfed,
Let’s win this war at all cost,
Lets’ cheat, let’s simulate diving and feign injury,
We are masters of our destiny.

And so twenty-two men chase the Jabulani,
Some of the ball chasers are millionaires a hundred times over,
They dance, they jump, they hack, they kick and they rush,
And they cry when they lose.

The watchers sing and shout and yell and scream,
The Jabulani flies like a Raptor and it dives like a Falcon,
And the goaltender jumps like a Panther,
Opppsss – he misses and the watchers shrill with delight.

And the peacekeeper blows a whistle. A goal.

Dang! Three more minutes,
This war has a timer,
It expires when the time runs out.

The African sun is setting,
The war is nearly over.

Gosh! A penalty. A roulette;
This collusive War of The Worlds has just begun.

If God wills it;
One of their own will push a button,
And they can burn here on earth,
And they can burn again – forever in hell.

Or one of their friends would turn against them,
And they can wage war against each other.
Who knows?
He knows – The All Knowing Lord of The Universe!

Our God Allah is their God.
Do you think that they know not?

They can boast about themselves,
They can hogwash the world,
They can even flap doodle and flatter themselves.

Who are they if there are no enemy?
They need enemies to brag about themselves,
They need enemies to display their strength,
They need enemies to show how arrogant they are,
They are beings with seriously tortured souls.

We don’t need to play their cruel game,
We don’t even need to acknowledge their existence.

Who?
Them – the Armageddon seeker.
Them – the chosen beings who would fuel hell eternally.
Them – the cowardly beings.

Don’t envy them,
Let them just rot and decompose in their own heaven on earth,
Let them inhale their own death.

If they ever cross their border of beastly den;
They would know what is waiting outside,
As a matter of fact; they know.

The Ababil would one day swoop over them,
And who are we to say that it shall not happen?